I turned forty last week. Was I worried about getting old - no. Did I suddenly have a mid-life crisis - no. Then how did I feel? Excited about having a whole day and night out with the girlies and no kids and disappointed that fashion for forty year olds is severely limited! Okay, well, maybe I was a little bit distracted by the thought that when my nine month old son has his eighteenth birthday party his friends will mistake me for his nan (at the age of fifty eight) but was I that worried - certainly not, if my mum is anything to go by then a very young looking and healthy fifty eight year old I will be.
My husband and I decided to try for another child twenty months ago when we realised that we weren't quite ready to swap our Nike Hightops for comfy slippers. Our six year old daugher, Freya, seemed all grown up and gardening, golf and gnome collections just wasn't that appealing. I never felt my age anyway and now that this little bundle of joy has come along he has given me even more of an incentive to keep myself young and fit, after all, I want to be there at his side when he gets married and I want to be a doting nan to his children (at least for a while).
So, not only do I find myself, aged forty, juggling school runs with baby swimming lessons but I have found the need to take up sports that I wouldn't have dreamed of doing ten years ago. Last month I obtained my yellow belt in karate and the local "mummy" netball team takes me right back to my childhood. Am I glad that I am forty and completely run off my feet - oh yes, do I wish that sometimes I could slip those tired feet into those comfy slippers - okay, well maybe sometimes, but you know what comfy slippers aren't that comfy if they've got itchy feet in them!